


I Know Places

by Arakano



Category: PRISTIN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arakano/pseuds/Arakano
Summary: 1. With Your Eyes Turned Skywards - Seven year old Yaebin dreams of flying. PRISTIN Hogwarts one-shots





	I Know Places

**_(With Your Eyes Turned) Skywards_ **

_Yaebin_

* * *

_For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return._

_Leonardo DaVinci_

* * *

There is a tree in Yaebin’s backyard.

Well, to be fair, there are many trees that line the edge of the yard of their summer home, but there is one in particular, tall and strong in the middle, not quite straight but a little crooked, just enough to be strange without being climbable, knobs that protrude out just a little too far apart, branches that strike out at odd angles. Their family has sat beneath it for picnics, lain down by its feet to see the stars, scratched both Yaebin and her brother’s heights into its bark as they grow.

Five year old Yaebin loves this tree.

She loves reading at its base, loves running her hands over the bark, loves finding little beetles that crawl around in the cracks and letting them run over her tiny fingers, loves squealing at the ticklish sensation that their wee feet make on her skin. She thinks sometimes about climbing it, looks up into the thick, dark leaves of the crown, dreams about what it would be like to sit amidst the branches one night as the rain comes crashing down in dense, dense sheets, swaying in the wind and one day she wakes up sitting on the tree with the water pouring down over her and the branches shaking and the dark expanse that stretches out around her terrifies and calms her.

The water falls into her eyes and their town stretches out before her. She can see the light of her room, can see the lights down the street, sees a car wind its way down the road, heading to the big city.

Then a gust comes and she falls out almost immediately with a shriek, breaks her arm, hobbles into the house wailing and when her parents ask for an explanation, does not manage to give one.

She still likes the tree after but something is different.

* * *

Seven year old Yaebin dreams of flying.

She reads books and comics and watches TV and wants to fly so when her parents take her to the ice skating rink in winter near her grandparents’ house in the countryside she takes to it like a fish to water, like most children utterly unafraid of falling, digs the edges into the ice, whoops with glee as she sidesteps slower adults and feels the wind in her face as it turns her cheeks pink.

They teach her to jump and spin and do turns and every moment Yaebin spends in the air is a glorious amazing moment.

Then winter melts into spring and the rink with it and Yaebin knows she is going to outgrow her skates really soon but the rink is far away on the other side of the city and her parents do not have time to take her and her brother has his friends to play with and none of her friends skate.

It is a chilly grey spring morning when Yaebin trudges out of bed. She sits by the small pond by the creek, pokes a finger into it and lets a fish nibble her, closes her eyes, wishes, wishes, wishes.

She opens her eyes and the water no longer ripples in the soft breeze, no longer lets her push her finger through.

Yaebin’s eyes light up.

Five minutes later she has come running back to the pond, her skates in hand, happily lacing them up.

It is the best afternoon she spends all year.

* * *

Yaebin is nine and school is great.

English class is great. History is awesome. PE is amazing. Friends are wonderful. Math is interesting and Science is cool. She loves being around people and people love being around her and going home is most often the most boring part of her day.

She hangs out with the other kids, has study parties that very quickly devolve into watching movies but her parents do not really care since she does well anyway.

They go out to the ice cream shop and share flavors. She waves to the postman on her way home, turns a corner.

“Hey, you!”

She turns around, someone puts a hand on her eyes and she shrieks, swinging out, her hand contacting a larger, broad chest.

She panics as her hand is grabbed and she is physically lifted from the ground. She kicks back, hearts a grunt, feels rough fingers close over her hand, really, really panics when she cannot break her hand free.

Then she hears a hoarse yell and is dropped.

She runs, runs, runs away and does not look back.

She does not remember any of this but her parents get really scared from the news of a death on the corner of the street and her brother walks her to and from school after.

* * *

“Yaebin!”

Eleven-year-old Yaebin rolls over and presses her pillow to her ears, groans. It is too early for this. She does not know what time it is, but whatever time it is, it is too early for this and too early for her to be out of bed because she had literally just spent the night reading in secret in the dark.

“Kang Yaebin, get out of bed, you have a guest!”

She scrambles out, throws the duvet covers to a side, half-tumbles down the stairs, bleary-eyed, one sock having fallen off at night, light blue pajama pants not matching her maroon pajama top.

Her mother snickers at her, Yaebin sticks her tongue out, and then she sees the guest.

“Hi,” she says, when what she wants to say is, is that hat real?

“You must be Yaebin,” the guest says.

“You speak Korean well,” Yaebin says, “but it’s ok, I speak English. Is that hat real?”

The guest smiles. Yaebin’s father chuckles.

“Yes,” they say, “the hat is real. All students at Hogwarts wear a version of this hat. I am here to extend you an invitation to come study with us at Hogwarts.”

Yaebin makes a face, “am I going to have to wear that?”

The guest chuckles, “Yes, Yaebin.”

Yaebin frowns.

“The hat is part of the school uniform,” the guest says, “but students hardly wear that except for formal occasions.”

Yaebin sighs, “I guess I could do that. Where’s Hogwarts?”

“England,” the guest says.

“England is kind of far away,” Yaebin says, even though she totally had a great time studying in the Philippines and has read enough about English boarding schools that she has dreamt of studying in them, “and I like my friends and my school.”

“We teach first-years to fly,” the guest says, a twinkle in their eye.

“Oh,” says Yaebin, twiddles her thumbs so as to not seem too eager.

“Term starts in September,” the guest says, “We would love to see you there, since well, you do not really have a choice - Mr. and Mrs. Kang decided that they preferred you school at Hogwarts.”

Yaebin’s eyes fly open, “You knew?”

“We’re your parents, Yaebin,” her dad snorts, “of course we knew.”

* * *

Thirteen-year-old Yaebin’s fingers close around the Golden Snitch and the stadium goes up in a giant roar.


End file.
